Last Time
by seriousish
Summary: There was no one to blame but herself. Kahlan had always been too soft with Richard, too cowardly to see him cut on the harsh edges of the Confessor. She smiled at him when she should have been reserved, loved him when she should have used him.


There was no one to blame but herself. Kahlan had always been too soft with Richard, too cowardly to see him cut on the harsh edges of the Confessor. She smiled at him when she should have been reserved, slept facing him when she should have turned away. Loved him when she should've used him.

But he had asked for so little! Not a kiss, though he could've had that, nor a promise, though he had always had that. Just a touch. The merest whisper of her skin was enough to lift him from the darkest despair and, having brought that darkness on him, she couldn't refuse him any relief. But that wasn't the whole truth. If it were, she could've resisted. But she was selfish. She hoarded those little connections, those moments of being touched, treasured, normal. She'd held his hand, that was all. That was enough. Seeing Richard's face alit, seeing him breathe deep of forthcoming victory, it had been enough to swell Kahlan's own heart. She had let herself feel, just for a taste, what wives felt for husbands.

Richard's eyes turned black.

At first, she was in shock. That couldn't have been her. No, his eyes must be a trick of light. She tried to pull her hand out of his, dreaming her concern would be enough to break the barriers she had put up.

He held on to her hand. "Command me, Confessor."

"No! Don't ever joke like that!"

"My love for you is no jest, Confessor. Please! Command me!" he asked insistently.

The black had left his eyes, but they were no longer warm. Now they were chilled with the empty zeal of one of Darken Rahl's men. Kahlan began to weep.

"Kahlan!" He embraced her, and to her horror Kahlan felt her body betray her, responding to his long-denied warmth. "You don't have to cry, my love. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

Through his lips, the Spirits were chastising her. To hear him saying what she'd longed to hear but couldn't let him say, knowing it was now a horrible lie, was unbearable. She knew what she would have to do. Zedd would know a way to break the Confessor's magic. But for now, all she could do was give him something good to remember of her.

She thought on it as he made camp, refusing to let her do the smallest of chores (she could not bring herself to give him an order, knowing how real it would make this nightmare feel). She wished there were a way to bottle her emotions, to carve how she felt in her heart, but all she could do was write a letter and words were… pitiful.

She gave the letter to him, closed with the Confessor's seal. "Richard, do not open this letter until you are out of my power."

"But I shall never be out of your power, will I?" He sounded both forlorn and yet excited as a pup on the run.

"Let us hope," Kahlan said. "Richard, you… the man you were before I touched you with my power… he desired me, did he not?"

"Oh, of course, Kahlan. How could anyone not? But _his_ love was a mere acorn, mine the tallest oak."

"And the man you were, even under these circumstances, would desire me still?"

"Nothing you could do in a man's lifetime could change the way I feel about you."

"Then take me. Have me. Do as you've always wanted with me." She felt tears escaping. She never had been able to hide the truth of her feelings from the Seeker. "Thus commands the Confessor."

He kissed her. Kahlan was surprised he started there, until she remembered all the times he had stared at her lips, shy to meet her eyes yet too gentlemanly to lower his gaze. She hated how good it felt, how he tortured her with pleasure. If only it could hurt as she deserved. If only she could take all the hurt of the world off him and upon herself.

She was impatient for the real pain to begin, the one hurt she could lay claim to without implicating Richard. "Have you dreamt of this moment?"

He held with his breath hot on her neck, his need clearly trying even her magic. "Yes, I have, Kahlan." Her mere name was a fawning plea.

She wiped her tears off on her sleeve while she still had the chance. "Am I naked in these thoughts?"

"Not all of them. But most."

"Then undress me."

He undressed her and undressed himself and then took her, all with a covetous care. It was hellish that she would never know how much of his gentle passion was real and how much was her accursed magic. Even the pain of her maidenhood being given was too brief and fleeting to be a comfort, soon giving way to the breathlessness of his compromised love for her. She would've resolved herself to a proper torment later, if she didn't know how the thought would eat away at Richard. She finally stopped thinking and abandoned herself to his all-encompassing need. That, too, would be a comfort to him in the days to come.

* * *

Zedd had come to care for her. That could be the only reason eh didn't berate her, instead looking at Kahlan with speechless empathy. His only response to her single question was a nod. There was a way to free a confessed Seeker and the cost was one she was willing to pay.

The last time this had happened, the mingling of the Seeker's magic and the Confessor's had driven Kieran mad. Richard would not be like the Seeker who had once possessed him. Zedd would mend his soul, or at least patch it with grief until he moved on to another. Or joined her in the underworld.

The letter curiosity would drive him to open had one last command, one he was not bound to obey but that she hoped would find a home in his heart. It said to honor her. Not with tears or rage, but with life. Keep the memories that strengthened him and discard the rest. Make her spirit a shield instead of a burden.

Dennee would be his Confessor from then on. Justice would be his great love, as it always should've been. And she would join the honored ranks of those who had broken against Darken Rahl's tyranny rather than flee before it. Among the company of heroes and martyrs she would wear rags, but even if she had the choice, Kahlan would not have been able to trade a warrior's death for what she took with her.

Some of the love that night had been Richard's.


End file.
